You are sitting on the edge of the sofa with your hands gripping your knees so tightly that your knuckles have gone white.

Draco is standing near the archway. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are locked on Mattheo. You knew this moment was coming.

Mattheo walks in with his usual carelessness, a smirk playing on his face as though he has just returned from stirring up trouble elsewhere. He pauses as soon as he sees how tense Draco is.

"What's your problem?" Mattheo asks impatiently.

You can feel the tension like a pin dropping. Draco’s breath shudders in his chest before he answers in a quieter voice than you expected. "She cheated on me."

You look down, as if your guilt might vanish if you avoid eye contact for long enough. But you can still feel Draco’s pain filling every inch of the room.

He doesn’t stop there.

"With someone I trusted."

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second. You know what’s coming. You know what Mattheo’s about to realize.

There’s a pause — short, but it drags like hours. You hear Mattheo shift his weight behind you.

"Oh," he says slowly.

You don’t dare look up, but you can feel his eyes on you, lingering for a beat before flicking to Draco. "That was your girl?"

Draco doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.

Mattheo breathes out sharply. "I thought I recognized her," Mattheo mutters. Not an excuse. Not even a lie. Just a dull realization that he’s already done something he can’t undo.

You lift your eyes just enough to glance between them — Draco, still and hurt, and Mattheo, suddenly still in a way that feels unfamiliar, like even he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Draco’s voice cuts through the silence again. "You didn’t even ask who she was."

Mattheo’s brows knit together. He turns to you now, the smirk completely gone. His voice is low. "You didn’t tell me."